


Chivalrous

by raven_aorla



Series: Our Agency [11]
Category: 18th Century CE RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Also the Other Kind of Infidelity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Body Dysphoria, Both Literal and Metaphorical Gambling, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Queer Character, Colleagues with Benefits, Consensual Infidelity, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gambling, Heist Aftermath, Implied/Referenced Past Underage, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insofar as anyone can guess what d'Eon truly identified as, Intersex, Kink Negotiation, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Other, Porn with Feelings, References to Cissexism and Transphobia, Role Reversal, Spies & Secret Agents, There are other valid interpretations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:35:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24756388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: Two of Mr. 15's best agents are on the way back from a successful collaboration when misadventure leads to sharing a motel room. The notorious lover boy has no idea what's actually in his colleague's pants, and is interested in finding out.[Can be read on its own.]
Relationships: Giacomo Casanova/Charles d'Eon de Beaumont
Series: Our Agency [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/585238
Kudos: 13





	Chivalrous

**Author's Note:**

> Another historical RPF ship with no historical evidence that I know of, whee. At least their real counterparts both did spy work (though for Casanova it was more of a phase) and knew some of the same people? Like Madame du Pompadour, which is why the AU iteration gets a tiny cameo here. "Casey Nova" has been in the background of this series for awhile now and finally deserves the spotlight.

The job itself had gone well, so maybe the current situation was only fair.

The man known (these days) as Casey Nova, codenamed Count Lascivious, and the individual known as Chev, pronounced like "Shev" and codenamed Mx. Cavalier, had been hired to work together. One of them could have probably done it alone, but the client (whose name and pronouns only their boss knew) had been willing to pay extra to ensure it was quick and clean. The client had a grudge against a certain casino in Louisiana where their gambling addict father had frittered away the family’s life savings before blowing his brains out in the parking lot. The client also had a program, loaded onto one primary memory stick and a second for backup, that would subtly skim off the top of the casino’s slot machine profits and send them to the client in a way that wasn’t explained to them and wasn’t their business. The computer that controlled the slot machines couldn’t be hacked remotely (whether _safely_ or _at all_ was unclear). One of the agents had to physically install the program without getting caught. 

They’d relied on their respective strengths to pull it off. Chev carried off the disguise of Innocuous Female Redhead Poker Player for two days of research, then on the third day deliberately lost all “her” chips in a single hand in order to throw a dramatic sobbing and screaming fit. This provided an opportunity to pickpocket a keycard off a security guard who was politely but firmly ushering “her” out. 

While playing hours of blackjack, Casey convinced a cocktail waitress to let him buy her dinner after her shift, and acted as a caring listener until she complained about how the air conditioning system at the casino kept breaking down lately and how it was all related to a malfunctioning switch in the utility closet. He didn’t really need to sleep with her after that, but she was interested, and who was he to deny someone a pick-me-up? The next day, while that waitress wasn’t at work, Casey maneuvered a manager into accepting a furtive blowjob in the aforementioned utility closet. Fumbling around in the dark covered Casey’s little sabotage of aforementioned switch, and the manager was heterosexually married closet case who would be terrified of telling anyone about the tryst if there was an investigation. 

Finally, Chev assumed the identity of Dark-Haired Air Conditioning Repairman who had an excuse to wander around various back rooms and kneel down and fiddle with machinery, and who could plausibly claim someone had let “him” into the office with the computer. Chev had gone so far as applying fake electrical burn scars to their hands to explain their character’s insistence on always wearing gloves while working, if questioned for some reason. When the real repairman came, Chev claimed it had all been a mixup and graciously backed out. 

So, all that had gone well. The two of them had decided to drive from HQ to their destination, rather than fly, so that there would be less of a documented trail and also to have more profit to split after it was all over. On the way there, it had taken over sixteen exhausting hours, but had been without significant problems. At least they trusted each other enough to take turns driving. Casey couldn’t say the same of all his colleagues. 

On their way back, though, they got into a car crash. It was Casey’s turn to drive, but it wasn’t Casey’s fault. He was sure the other driver was either drunk or sleep-deprived. Nevertheless, it was a hit-and-run from a big SUV that left them alone on the side of the road in a totaled piece of junk. Unlike on the way to Louisiana, they’d been taking back roads since they were technically fleeing a crime, and were currently surrounded by fields. And it was raining. 

“Are you okay?” Casey asked Chev urgently. The airbags and seatbelts had done their thing, but Chev’s eyes were closed.

Chev opened them. “I’m not hurt. I was taking a moment to process that we are stranded.”

“We were planning on stopping somewhere overnight anyway.”

“Yeah, but not in fucking rural Alabama.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Check your cis privilege, my dude. I can handle being in one of our country’s most intolerant states for a bit, it’s just annoying, especially when we’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.” Chev undid their seatbelt and got out of the car.

Casey got out of the car too, and walked around it to see the damage. Yeah, this was way beyond anything a call to AAA could fix. He’d been planning on getting a new car next month anyway. “Hey, I’ve still got your back.”

“If I feel overwhelmed, I’m going to make it seem to strangers like I’m your girlfriend, and I want you to play along. Okay? Okay. Help me get stuff out of the trunk, please. I’m gonna get my umbrella, put on more makeup, and start carrying a purse. We can look up the nearest shelter and figure it out from there.”

“If you wanted me to act like you’re my girlfriend, at least on a temporary basis, you could have asked days ago,” Casey said sweetly. Chev raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing.

While Chev made themself skew more femme, Casey ducked back into the car to get shelter from the rain. He consulted Google Maps and determined that there was a small motel about an hours’ walk away, with no convenient alternate form of transport. Chev sighed at the news but didn’t complain. Taking out their respective luggage, the pair left the car behind. Chev gave Casey the umbrella since he was taller and could more easily hold the umbrella over both. 

The motel parking lot had two cars in it. Chev pointed at a bumper sticker that said JESUS SAVES and sighed.

“You know I’m a practicing Catholic, right?” Casey asked, keeping his tone light. “I’ll learn how to do it properly at some point.”

“Probably after your dick stops working,” Chev muttered. This was the first time Chev had ever said anything negative about Casey’s sex life, so they had to be more stressed than they’d ever been during their “heist”. Casey found it more funny than sharp. “I don’t have any problem with any kind of non-hateful member of any religion, but that sticker feels ominous. What about that Confederate flag on the other car?”

“History buff?” Casey didn’t laugh easily himself, but he liked making other people laugh.

This earned a snort, at least. “I’m only holding your hand to make myself feel better as we enter the lobby, not to dignify that remark further.” Chev interlaced their cool fingers with Casey’s. 

The receptionist was a lady in her early sixties who listened to their story with great sympathy and called Chev “honey” in the nurturing-grandma-who-has-decided-to-adopt-you sort of way. “I’m afraid we’ve only got one room left, with a single bed.”

“That’s fine,” Chev said, without missing a beat. Acting upset about that would be out of character, Casey supposed. He used the card and ID associated with one of his aliases, Jack Farussi, to pay for the room. 

“There’s no restaurant near enough to walk, but plenty of people order pizza or Chinese to their room, that’s not a problem,” the receptionist added. “In the morning, my son would be willing to give you a ride to the nearest Greyhound stop. It’d be a lot cheaper than paying a taxi to come all the way out here.”

“We might take you up on that, thanks,” Casey said.

The room was adequate. Sure, Casey enjoyed luxury when possible, but he was a practical man. The carpet had unappealing swirls in the design and the windowsill hadn’t been dusted as well as it could have been, but the door had both a peephole and a chain lock. That was vital in a motel where the room door opened directly to the outside. The bedsheets looked clean enough when he peeled back the coverlet. All the lights worked. No sign of bugs on cursory inspection. Adequate. 

“We seem to have gotten ourselves into an old trope,” Chev said as they set up their suitcase in one corner.

Casey filled up one of the two drinking glasses he found on a shelf with tap water and took a long drink.“If you want to make a pillow barrier or something for the night, I won’t take offense, but I do know how to keep my hands to myself if they’re unwelcome.” Chev hadn’t even wanted to share a room with two beds while they were working on the casino job, so he could imagine them being a bit freaked out right now.

“Have you refrained from hitting on me during this trip because you’re not interested, or because of professionalism?” Chev asked casually, unzipping an outer pocket of their luggage and taking out a big pouch of toiletries. 

“Professionalism.” Casey had a theory that Chev, being such a cultivated enigma and master of manipulation, would be attracted to openness. Time to put it to the test. “Actually, I was thinking of putting the moves on you this evening in a sort of celebratory spirit, just not under these circumstances.”

Chev turned to give Casey their full attention, hugging the bag of toiletries to their chest. “Oh?”

“I was going to take you out to a decent restaurant. Not because I’d be treating you like a stereotypical male-female date, but because I’d want you to have energy for later.”

This got Chev to smile, amused. “How pragmatic.”

"Every person you’ve been during this whole trip has been unfairly appealing, you know.” He cautiously put a hand on Chev’s shoulder.

Chev stared at Casey’s hand but didn’t move. “You are aware that me showing my body to anybody new is a huge deal, right?”

“Right. You are aware that you have been trusting me so far, and I haven’t let you down, right? I’m not looking to pursue something serious, Chev, I’m looking to have a good time while not changing any other aspect of our relationship. The situation is so perfect, don’t you think? Would you go within twenty miles of the Grand Canyon and refuse to make a slight detour to see it?”

“Are you calling yourself a national treasure or an enormous hole?”

Casey grinned. “It depends who you ask.”

“Hold still.” Chev gently took hold of Casey’s chin with their right hand, and made lengthy, almost interrogatory, eye contact. “If you ever tell anyone, absolutely anyone at all, what you learn about me from tonight, I will do something that will feel equally as horrible as how that would feel for me. I’m not kidding.”

“Understood.” He felt a thrill at the implied agreement. Some people asked him if he ever got jaded about sex, which in his mind was like asking a sommelier if he ever got jaded about wine. Especially a unique vintage.

“Have you been with a trans and/or non-binary person before?”

“Yes.”

“I’m interested in you fucking my ass, but don’t touch or even refer to my genitals. I’ll get myself off at the end. Some manhandling is welcome, but not my wrists. We’re both going to shower first, but separately. I’m sure you have condoms and lube. If I say no, everything stops, no questions asked. I do know how to talk sexier than this, but this is too important. Are we agreed?”

“Negotiation can be sexy too. Are you planning on being this bossy the whole time? That’s fine, I like to strike the right tone is all.”

Chev released Casey’s chin. “Quite the opposite. Which is why I have to be now. Go shower.”

He was thorough but efficient about it, including brushing his teeth. While Chev was taking their turn, Casey texted a quick update to Reinette. Both spies got along much better with Mr. 15’s right-hand woman than they did with the man himself. Mr. 15 would have required a formal email, and Casey wasn’t in the mood.

She texted back, _While you’re stranded and bored, whatever Chev does with you is their business, but they will rain hellfire on you if you harass them. As will I._

He was still trying to think of a suitably witty retort when Chev emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel worn sarong-style. He put his phone away and gave Chev a smile that was meant to balance between a friendly leer and a pleased grin.

“One last thing,” Chev said. “I’m in an open relationship, and I'm going to tell my partner I had sex with you. It’s part of our deal.”

“As long as I won’t have an angry significant other chasing me down as a result of this, I’m happy,” Casey said. He had a handful of scars from that sort of thing. 

“I have a medical condition. You’re going to see the results.”

“If it isn’t contagious and won’t make you do anything alarming during sex, then I don’t care.”

“Okay.” And Chev...just stood there. 

Was that a tremble?

Oh. Ohhhh. That was a fun game, too.

“Done being bossy, Cavalier?” Casey asked, dropping his voice to a low purr. Chev gave a tiny nod but didn’t move otherwise. He stripped off his shirt, making the most of a chance to artistically reveal the chest he worked hard on, thank you very much. Then he made his way to Chev and took their face in both hands for an exploratory kiss. 

But he wasn’t going to wait a single second longer. He undid the towel and let it fall to the floor. It turned out that Chev had small but natural breasts and a small, but pretty cock, with balls on the average side. Curvy hips. And a lovely round, plush ass. He took two handfuls of it to pull Chev closer for a more passionate kiss. Some of Chev’s diffidence faded, and they gripped the back of Casey’s neck as they started yielding to lust. 

“Hang on tight.” Then Casey picked Chev up bridal-style to carry them to bed.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t surprise me with that grab, because I’ve really gotten into aikido lately,” Chev said, with a giggle. Casey hadn’t known Chev could giggle, though it made sense for them to be judicious with a potent psychological weapon like that. 

“Maybe some other time you can try flinging me into a wall. Right now I think what you want is to be taken care of and be a good little…” Casey faced a moment of internal crisis where he realized that “girl” or “boy” wasn’t going to work with Chev and that he'd prefer not to break character by outright asking what to say. Before it got awkward, he finished the sentence with, “...playmate.”

“If you can do it right.” Chev let Casey spread them out on the mattress and breathed in sharply when he spread himself over them, not pressed together yet but caging Chev in with his limbs. 

In Chev’s ear, Casey murmured, “Grab the pillow under your head with both hands. If they aren’t both holding onto the pillow, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing, no matter how much you protest, got it? Good. _So good._ You like praise, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Chev whispered, obeying. Casey sucked a faint mark at the base of their neck as a reward. The intensity hadn’t been dialed up enough yet for a serious hickey. 

Sitting up, Casey said, “What a picture, and I’ve barely gotten started.”

“Am I, am, uh, am I doing enough?” This sounded more like an anxious question rather than Chev expressing a desire to be more active.

“All I need you to do is be good and responsive and take what I give you, and tell me if something’s wrong.” Casey said, his tone warm and indulgent. He ran his fingers through Chev’s hair with one hand and brushed a featherlight fingertip over their lips. “I know you’ll do that.”

Once Chev nodded, he shifted position so that he could play with their tits as well as paying attention to their face and neck. They had a chest tattoo of purple flowers on a green stalk, and he traced its lines with the very tip of his tongue while palming Chev’s breasts. Chev’s gasp at that was nothing compared to when he started teasing and pinching and sucking on their nipples, which must have been particularly sensitive. If he wasn’t going to be able to touch large portions of Chev’s body, he needed to maximize results everywhere he was welcome. 

After a few minutes of this, Chev hissed, “I like it but I need a break there, sorry.”

“You’re doing exactly as you were told, no need to be sorry. I’ll be right back.” Casey grabbed the condom and tube of Astroglide, as well as a smaller pillow to wedge under Chev’s hips. “If you want to do this on all fours, that’s fine, but it’d be nice to see your face.”

“It’s been, like, years since I’ve been on my back, so I’d like to do that,” Chev said. “I’m more of a cowpoke, when I’m not topping.”

“A what?”

“Like a cowgirl or cowboy.”

“Right, right, sorry, I heard ‘poke’ and my mind went to a very different place.”

Chev snorted. “Also it’s been many months since I’ve bottomed at all, so you might have to go slower than you want.”

“If you keep presuming what I want, I’ll have to put you in time-out,” Casey said with exaggerated sternness. Then winked. “May I initiate proceedings?”

“You’d better, I spent extra time tidying it up.”

“Your sacrifice will be amply rewarded.” He spread Chev’s thighs and started with one slicked-up finger, and took his sweet time with the increasing depth and number of fingers. He didn’t just want this to be comfortable, he wanted it to feel almost as good as the eventual fucking. It was hard to quantify a goal like that, but the increasing whimpers and swear words were helpful cues. He multitasked and returned to Chev’s chest for a few quick visits.

“I’m ready,” Chev gasped, three fingers in.

“How nice. I’m not.”

“Oh, c'mon."

"La la la."

"Fuck you.”

Casey smirked. “Soon. Do you want to touch yourself? I won’t stop you, but I’ll stop doing this.”

“Please keep going.”

This was meant to be fun, not mutual torment, so about two minutes later Casey stopped drawing it out and took off the rest of his clothes before rolling on a condom with practiced ease. “See if you can get your legs up here...good, shift to the right a fraction, and… _yes_.” 

Finally sinking in was intense relief for him. Chev seemed to be taking deep breaths to consciously relax, even with all the work Casey had done opening them up, so he started off slow. It helped his restraint to keep talking. “You’re so competent, so in control, so self-possessed every moment anyone can see you. Which makes it extra delicious for me, seeing you as putty in my hands and begging for me inside you.”

“That wasn’t begging.” Chev started rocking against him in tandem, but their eyes had gone far away and their tone defiant. “Won’t beg for you. Won’t beg for anyone, not ever again, I don’t care what you want.”

The advantage of having casual sex with dozens of people (so far) was that Casey could easily recognize when the phantom of a past lover had slipped into bed with them. This one must have hurt Chev in ways that were unacceptable and long-lasting. Casey picked up his pace and stroked Chev’s hair. “You don’t have to do anything more than you’re doing right now, darling.” And finally did start marking Chev’s neck and shoulders with hickeys and bruises. 

Chev was definitely a moaner, not a screamer, and between increasingly inarticulate noises said things like, _“Harder, harder. Hollow me out and fill me up again, you talented slut, show me why people fall for you, give me your best.”_

There was a moment where Casey had to readjust because of a cramp in his left thigh - that cocktail waitress had ambitious preferences in positions - but it still wasn’t long before he felt his orgasm building. In a moment of enthusiasm, he yanked the pillow out of Chev’s hands and clasped each hand with each of his instead, pinning them down without breaking the rule about wrists. Chev leaned up to kiss him in the fiercest point of contact yet. 

Chev was, in some senses of the word, a friend, so Casey gave himself a few seconds to relax and gather them up in his arms rather than immediately attending to their turn. Most of his sex was casual. He’d never had a relationship last more than a few months. However, when he already knew the person a bit, there was less pressure to perform constantly, and sometimes that was a pleasant break. 

“Can I hold you while you get yourself off?” he asked Chev, hopefully.

This seemed to surprise Chev, but their nod looked pleased, too. “Yeah, but disengage first. Also I need a second to get my head together.”

Casey pulled his softening cock out of Chev gradually, then got up to dispose of the condom. When he came back, Chev was sitting against the headboard with their legs spread in a narrow V. They were flushed all over, but especially at their erection. A travel pack of tissues now sat on the table. Both of them could be practical.

“If being in my lap will work for you, I want you to do that,” Casey said. 

Chev said it would, so Casey ended up with _his_ back to the headboard with Chev leaning against his chest. He looped his arms around their waist and held them securely, though not tightly. Watching over Chev’s shoulder as Chev took ownership of their pleasure was something he hadn’t pictured when imagining how this might go, but it was satisfying to see Chev spit on both palms and really go for it. 

“There’s lube to spare; you didn’t have to do that,” Casey said.

“Sometimes I like being a little gross,” Chev replied, with a hint of a smirk.

“I can relate.”

“No more talking. I’m in the zone.”

The final surprise was that Chev swore in French, at low volume but great length, when they finally snatched a tissue and pulsed into it. 

Dazed and panting, Chev paused for about twenty seconds before twisting around for a slower, gentler kiss than the other ones they’d exchanged. Both of them shifted until they were lying down, Chev curling into a little spoon and Casey curving around them to suit.

“I’m usually the big spoon at home, and I like it that way,” Chev said quietly.

“I’m a lot of people’s little break from their normal way of doing things,” Casey replied. “That’s why you were interested.”

“You’re good at reading people.”

“Yes. But I’m not good at not being read right back. That’s why I prefer card games that don’t require bluffing.”

“You’ve gotten in deep trouble a few times for gambling more than you could afford.” It wasn’t a question. Of course Chev had done research.

“That’s why I only let myself do it as part of a job and on a fixed budget now,” Casey said. He felt hot and sticky, but the afterglow was making him not mind it quite yet. “Is that what you’d do to me if I was ‘indiscreet’? Tell Mr. 15, who already thinks I’m irresponsible?”

“No.”

“Damn, I’m curious now.”

“You’ll be mad if I tell you. We’re having a nice moment. Just know you’d hate it.”

“Please? I won’t be mad. I’ll be impressed.”

Chev didn’t say anything for what felt like several minutes. It occurred to Casey that they’d just technically done a D/S scene, even if on the milder end of things, and sub drop might be an issue. So he behaved as a proper scene partner should, holding his current bedmate for a while, as that seemed to be their preferred way to return to normal. 

Eventually, Chev said, “Let’s order pizza.” 

It was hard to argue with that. Casey rolled over to get his phone and look up the number for delivery. “Will you let me be chivalrous and pay?”

“That sounds like our ship name, if we used our codenames.”

“What?”

“You know, like Brangelina back in the day? Cavalier and Lascivious equals Chivalrous. And in answer to your question, no. Even split.” Chev pecked him on the cheek and ruffled his hair, then got up and started getting dressed. Nice moments didn’t last forever. 

“It’s not a gender thing.”

“If I thought it was, I would have objected far less nicely. Can you make the call, though? I have my own phone call I need to make before it gets too late. I like all toppings except pineapple, anchovy, and mushroom, and I don’t want soda. Going to talk in the bathroom for privacy.”

About forty minutes later, they were having a picnic on the floor because neither of them wanted crumbs on the covers. There was a good deal on two medium one-topping pizzas, so Casey had ordered one pepperoni and one olive. Thin crust, all else was an abomination in his opinion. 

Chev had changed into short-sleeved cotton pajamas covered in tiny songbirds. Casey tended to sleep either topless or naked. He was taking Chev’s newly demure lead, so after a quick rinse in the shower he had put on some sweatpants. 

“We’re not going to be able to finish this, and there’s no fridge,” Chev said once they’d polished off two slices. They were lounging on a pillow rather than sitting up properly. Casey liked to think he had something to do with that, but he didn’t think Chev would take a joke about that well.

“We’ll need provisions for the bus ride home anyway.”

“There’s no fridge.”

“There’s an ice bucket and a free ice machine outside,” Casey said. 

“Smart. I have some clean Ziploc bags we can put slices in before we submerge them.”

“Resourceful, but why did you already have those?”

Chev shrugged. “Be prepared. Maybe I used to be a Boy Scout. That’s privileged information.”

“Speaking of privileged information, is there something I can do to wheedle your hypothetical blackmail material out of you?” He batted his eyelashes.

“Oh God.” Chev picked up the mini plastic table from the center of one of the pizzas and started playing with it like an improvised fidget spinner. “I know exactly what information or words I would use to destroy everyone significant in my life, you’re not special in that regard.”

“Even the person you were saying _‘je t’aime aussi_ ’ to in the bathroom earlier?”

They frowned for a moment, but then seemed to realize both of them were spies-for-hire and there was no point in getting upset. “Especially that person. I never want to use it, of course, but by definition, mutual love gives you the power to completely devastate each other.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He continued to stare expectantly.

With a long sigh, Chev said, “As a friend who I wouldn’t mind benefiting from again, if the stars align, be careful about leaving fingerprints places. I lifted a set off a glass you drank from during that Agency mixer party last year. Your prints from petty offences long ago are still on file. So I was able to find your real name. Using that, I found records of a legal case when you were eleven - “

Quick as the hiss that escaped between his teeth, Casey darted his hand out and wrapped his fingers around Chev’s right wrist. Their eyes went wide, and they dropped the bit of plastic they'd been toying with. Casey muttered, “The case didn’t go anywhere. She was a teenage girl, I was a boy. Some people count that as ‘getting lucky’.” Including him, at first, because he hadn’t known better. 

(The therapist Mr. 15 had made him see when he first signed on wanted him to explore his intimacy issues and whether he overly relied on sex to feel like he was of value. So he’d stopped seeing her the very second his obligation was fulfilled. He was fine with the way he was, however someone else might think he’d gotten there.)

“Because society can be absolute bullshit sometimes. I know. It's nothing to be ashamed of. The real issue is that you would hate being pitied.” Chev looked away. “Would you like help getting that record expunged, since it clearly hasn’t been buried deep enough?”

“Then you wouldn’t have your most potent ammo anymore.”

“I suppose, but there’s other mud I could sling, Giacomo.” Maybe emboldened by that long-gone first name, Chev met his gaze again. But their set of their mouth had softened. “And, well, you took good care of me when I asked you to.”

Casey sagged a bit, suddenly exhausted way past what a good fuck would do. “I guess I could use your help with that, Chev.”

“Tit for tat: it’s short for Charles-Genevieve.” They swiveled their wrist in Casey’s now-loosened grip and brought up his hand to kiss the back of it. Chivalrously.

**Author's Note:**

> Real Casanova's memoirs record his first sexual experience at age eleven with his guardian's sister, who was older than him. He didn't consider it full-on sex and seemed pretty cheerful about it, but if you transplant that to a modern perspective it's...uncomfortable. I needed something for Chev to initially think they could exploit, but then feel bad about messing with once they'd gotten closer to him. As for other details, Casanova really did let his gambling get out of hand on occasion, and he definitely had sex with men sometimes, though most of his seductions were female. I've left another tidbit or two in there for people to discover themselves. :)
> 
> For new readers: My Chev's anatomy is inspired by the real Chevaliar(e) d'Eon's posthumous examination, though I've made some tweaks in order to make them match a specific intersex variation called AES (in short, people with a Y chromosome born with it have a penis but get an abnormally high level of estrogen in puberty). In this 'verse, they used to be more busty, but got a breast reduction so they could more easily pass as whatever they wanted. Given that d'Eon successfully blackmailed the French monarchy in order to get out of a treason charge, I don't think it's a stretch to have Chev keep an active blackmail file on everybody.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Would love to know what you think.


End file.
